How It Feels
by ficdirectory
Summary: It bubbles to the surface at the strangest times. The feeling not of solely being insecure, but of being unwanted. Inspired by counterpunch and FerryBerry. Allusions through 3x19 "Promasaurus"


It bubbles to the surface at the strangest times. The feeling not of solely being insecure, but of being unwanted. Tonight is supposed to be the happiest night of her high school life, but Rachel Berry finds she can't enjoy it. She couldn't enjoy the weeks leading up to it, either, not knowing that Finn was campaigning with Quinn. Then, it was like sophomore year all over again. Rachel was stuck reliving the worst moments of her young life.

Prom is over as scheduled, and a group of them head to the hotel where she, Becky, Puck, Blaine and Kurt had attempted to hold their anti-prom earlier. Rachel had kept the room reserved, just in case. But in the hotel lobby, everything changes. Finn speaks up and it changes Rachel's plans.

She's kissing Finn, when she can feel his attention divert away from her. Then, she hears it. "Are you proud of yourself?" he sneers.

"Finn. What-" Rachel begins, but she doesn't get much further. She turns and sees he is addressing Quinn.

"Stay away from me," Quinn says, in an even tone of voice. She's glaring up at him, in her beautiful purple dress. She's sitting in the chair again and Rachel's heart sinks.

"No, seriously. You got just what you wanted, didn't you? Took all the attention away from me and _my girlfriend_ and put it on yourself. Newsflash, Quinn! Not everything's about you!" Finn seethes, leaning into her face angrily.

"Finn, it's okay. I don't-" Rachel tries again to interject, but is cut off again, this time by Joe.

"If you touch her again, I promise, you'll wish you hadn't…" Joe maintains calmly, stepping between them.

"What's he talking about?" Rachel asks, bewildered. Apparently, she has missed more than Finn let on. She searches his face for the truth and can find nothing but anger. So, she looks to Joe expectantly.

But Joe isn't looking at her. Instead, his attention is on Quinn. His voice is low and his hands fall easily onto the handlebars of her chair. He starts pushing her toward the door. "Come on. Let's go."

"Take your hands off me," Quinn insists, though Rachel notes, no one is touching Quinn's person, just her chair. But maybe, they become one and the same in a situation like Quinn's. "You think what you're doing right now is any better than what Finn did in the middle of prom?" Quinn insists, turning to face Joe. "Trying to force me to stand up before I'm ready? Pulling me out of the chair or trying to flip it over or whatever you were trying to do?" she turns furious eyes on Finn. "Well, I have a news flash for both of you: Don't _touch me_," she says fiercely.

* * *

Rachel barely has time to send an incredulous look Finn's way - and the guilt's all there on his face - before she makes a split-second decision and follows Quinn to the elevators. "We can go to my room," Rachel offers quietly. It was supposed to be hers and Finn's but now, sharing space with him is so unappealing.

Rachel slides the key card in the door, and lets them both inside. Taking cues from Quinn, she doesn't try to help. If Quinn wants help, she'll ask for it, and she hasn't yet.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rachel asks.

"It's not a huge deal," Quinn says, shrugging. "Besides, Coach Sue was on top of it. He wouldn't have gotten away with actually hurting me." She pushes herself over to the bed and moves her feet from the footrests to the floor. Unsteadily, she pivots until she's seated on the bed, leaning back on her hands. After several seconds, Quinn scoots back and wraps her hands around her thigh, lifting her legs, one at a time, onto the bed.

Rachel waits, not speaking.

Quinn pats the space beside her.

Tentatively, Rachel walks to the other side and sits beside her. She can't help but stare at Quinn's legs. The muscles twitch a little, and Rachel wonders if it's a result of Quinn's injury or overuse from standing tonight.

"I'm going to get out of these heels," Rachel says, kicking her shoes off. "Would you like me to help with yours?" she asks quietly.

Quinn nods, and Rachel's on her knees by Quinn's feet, removing her heels. Why she chose to stand for the first time in these, of all things, is beyond Rachel. She eases the shoes off Quinn's feet and drops them on the floor by the bed, unable to keep her question inside.

"How does it feel?" she asks, a hand still resting on one of Quinn's feet.

"Strange," Quinn allows. "Pins and needles, sometimes pain. Sometimes like I'm wearing socks or leggings all the time. It's just different."

"Do you hate it?" Rachel wonders, sitting beside Quinn again.

There's a pause and then Quinn looks at her out of the corner of her eye. "Sometimes. Yeah. I _am _glad to be alive…I'm not as big a liar as Finn thinks I am…but it's hard… Harder than people think."

Silence falls and they both let it. Rachel doesn't know what Quinn is thinking but her own thoughts haven't strayed very far from where they've been hovering for the past couple years. Eventually, Quinn speaks, taking Rachel out of her own thoughts, but not completely.

"What's up?" Quinn asks gently.

Rachel hesitates. She's never spoken about this with anyone. Not her dads. Not anyone who matters, because who would listen? Who would really get it? She takes a deep breath. "I know it isn't fair to unload all my personal failures on you…especially since you've been in a much worse place than I have recently…"

Quinn shakes her head. "Pain's pain. You can tell me."

"Like I told you earlier…I don't know what I'm going to do about my future. The NYADA audition was…horrendous…" Rachel cringes at the memory.

"But that's not all it is," Quinn says, staring into Rachel's eyes. She's more perceptive than people give her credit for.

"No," Rachel confirms, her voice soft. She looks away, and then back. She feels nervous all of a sudden. Quinn might not be the correct person to discuss this with, but right now, Quinn is all she's got.

"I don't even know why…" Rachel admits. "But choking at my audition…it's made me think about my biological mother…"

"Miss Corcoran?" Quinn asks, a little shocked. "Why?"

"I don't know!" Rachel repeats, a little frantic. "It's silly, but I feel like, if I'd done better, maybe she'd have kept me… Maybe she knew I was destined to be a failure from the start and that's why she gave me away… Maybe that's why she…doesn't want contact with me anymore…" Rachel ventures, her tone wistful and soft. "Maybe that's why she'd rather have Beth…"

Rachel's afraid of how Quinn will take this. After all Beth is Quinn's biological daughter. Which, according to Noah, makes them like family. When Rachel meets Quinn's eyes though, she doesn't see anger, rejection or any of the things Rachel has most feared. All she sees in Quinn's eyes is sadness.

Rachel falls silent again, but Quinn takes her hand. Squeezes. "Tell me. Tell me how it feels."

So, Rachel does, even though it doesn't make sense. She tells Quinn the secrets she's never spoken aloud to anyone. How no one really considers how being adopted messes with her head. How, while she is so grateful to have two parents who love her, she can't help but think that they feel obligated to her. How, anytime one of her parents loses his temper with her over anything - staying up too late, practicing too hard, stretching herself too thin, not cleaning her room, racking up too many cell phone minutes - she internalizes it. She automatically goes back to the conversations she had as a toddler and a young child, when she asked where her mommy was. They told her the truth. Her mother was young and she'd made a mistake, but it turned out to be their blessing, because they got a beautiful baby girl. How, she had seized on the word _mistake_ and interpreted her circumstances as shameful and something to keep quiet. Something to never speak of. How she interpreted _herself_ and her very existence as something accidental.

Silent tears are falling, and Rachel sniffs and grabs a Kleenex as she finishes. "I know it's dramatic, but I just can't help thinking that…I don't know…I wasn't meant to be here and that whenever anything negative comes my way, it's justified. I mean, my own mother didn't want me. What kind of person does that make me?"

Quinn doesn't speak, just squeezes Rachel's hand, and slides an arm around Rachel's back. "Can I tell you something?" she asks, her voice low and soft, her chin resting atop Rachel's head.

Rachel's head bobs up and down beneath Quinn's chin.

"From a mother to a daughter? Did I give Beth up for selfish reasons? Yeah. I'm not gonna lie to you about that. But I also gave her up because it was best for _her_. Because she deserves someone who is able to support her and love her, and be there for her in all the ways a parent should. Miss Corcoran loves my daughter…and I know she loves you. More than you can possibly imagine," Quinn insisted gently. "Her decisions were hers. She may have made a mistake in having sex young, but that doesn't make _you_ a mistake. If your mother had raised you, who knows where you'd be right now. But you didn't have control over that anymore than I had control when I was in the accident. Focus on what you _can _do. You can't control how you got here, but you _do _have a say in what happens next. You can focus on her decisions…or you can focus on yours…"

"It hurts," Rachel insists, her voice breaking over the words.

"I know," Quinn says quietly, pulling Rachel into a hug. "I'm sorry." Quinn drops her voice then, and whispers something over Rachel, from memory. It sounds like music. Like a benediction.

"_Oh Lord, you have searched Rachel and you know her… For you created her inmost being; you knit her together in her mother's womb. I praise you because she is fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Her frame was not hidden from you when it was made in the secret place. When she was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw her unformed body. All the days ordained for her were written in your book before one of them came to be._"

"That's beautiful," Rachel breathes.

"Psalm 139," Quinn says. "The one thing that got me through my pregnancy."

"I doubt it has my name in it, though I appreciate how personalized it was." Rachel forces a smile.

"I personalize the parts I take to heart," Quinn confesses. "And it worked for me, so I thought what's the harm in trying it on a friend?"

Rachel smiles a little, knowing it's shaky and working hard to mask it with something that looks genuine. But her dress is too tight and her head is too crowded with stuff she can't make sense of in just one night. She sighs.

Silence falls again and they each let it. Until Rachel can't keep quiet anymore. She feels compelled to speak this truth. To make sure Quinn knows how she really feels.

"I'm not okay… Not yet…"

"I'm not either," Quinn answers, her voice low and introspective. "But maybe it's okay not to be okay."

It leaves Rachel feeling slightly better. This knowing that she has somehow, ended up just where she's always wanted to be. In the arms of a mother. Had the universe somehow known? And if it did, then maybe Quinn is right. Maybe, Rachel's being here is more intentional than it seems…and maybe…sometimes…it's okay not to be okay.

_The End._


End file.
